


Smile More

by LikeABrokenClock



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Get Together, Light Angst, M/M, Musical References, Pre-Barisi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 10:02:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8281898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeABrokenClock/pseuds/LikeABrokenClock
Summary: There's a million things Rafael Barba hasn't done, one of which is take Sonny Carisi on a date.  (Just you wait.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: So. Many. Musical. References. (And very slight Hamilton spoilers, but nothing you wouldn't get from reading the synopsis or listening to the soundtrack because I haven't actually seen it.) Also, I'm the only one who's edited this.
> 
> I don't own any of the characters or the musicals mentioned.

Rafael is cursed to never see _Hamilton_.

 

The first two times he’d tried, he’d been called back into work. The third time was supposed to be the charm. He had already forewarned Olivia in no uncertain terms that if she calls him on Saturday evening and no one on the squad is on their immediate deathbed, he will never speak to her again. He’d similarly notified the D.A., although he was a fair deal more professional in both his tone and his wording.

 

And then his date dumped him.

 

This in and of itself isn’t going to stop Rafael from seeing the show. It’s just the injury to the insult that he’s stuck with an extra ticket and no one to accompany him. Especially because Broadway tickets aren’t cheap and, as his ex had pointed out before throwing him out, Rafael isn’t “that kind of lawyer”. “That kind of lawyer” meaning Rafael didn’t make enough money to be worth his time.

 

The money issue is the only part of their breakup that Rafael can bear to acknowledge because, sure, he’s not making a defense attorney’s salary, but he’s not selling his soul, either. He’s proud of what he does.

 

What he’s trying to forget, though, is the litany of sins that being wealthy apparently would’ve covered. Old, fat, stubborn, workaholic, boring. He’s trying to forget which were implied and which were spelled out for him.

 

Really, Rafael’s trying to forget the entire argument—which was fairly one-sided because for all that his day job relies heavily on his ability to debate, all he could manage to do was stand there, dumb.

 

His favored method of forgetting involves a lot of work with a decent amount of coffee and a little scotch.

 

After a solid fourteen hour day—not a personal record by a long shot, but certainly more hours than he’s put in recently—Rafael ends up making one last stop at the precinct to return some files to Olivia. He’s just planning on leaving them in her office, because he knows she won’t be there. Ever since Noah, her days of staying late at the precinct have become few and far between, especially on weekends. And while Rafael’s happy for her, happy she’s happy, he secretly misses their late-night chats.

 

There’s a single desk lamp on in the otherwise dark precinct when Rafael arrives, which is only mildly surprising. Of course it’s not Olivia herself. He refuses to acknowledge his disappointment.

 

On the bright side, a working detective means that Rafael can hand off his files to a human being instead of sliding them under the door of Olivia’s office where they’re more than likely to get stepped on. And if Rafael has to hand over his files to any of them, Carisi isn’t an awful choice. He’s eager to please and dependable enough.

 

What’s more than mildly surprising is that the music filtering from the open laptop on Carisi’s desk is quiet enough that the lawyer is nearly at the desk before he even hears it. Huh. Rafael had pegged Carisi as someone who would listen to music top volume, especially when he was alone.

 

“Carisi,” he begins, startling the man in question. Rafael rolls his eyes as Carisi literally jumps. “Can you do me a favor and—wait, is that _Wicked_?”

 

Carisi taps the pause button on the laptop and silences “Defying Gravity” before turning in his chair to look at Rafael. He looks tired, which isn’t unreasonable since it’s 1:27 AM. Still, it’s an incongruous look on the usually chipper detective. “Um, yeah? To both. Well, I’d kinda like to know what the favor is before I agree to it.”

 

“The favor is making sure Olivia gets these.” Rafael brandishes the files, which Carisi takes with near reverence.

 

“Then definitely yes to both,” says Carisi, decisively. He carefully stows the files away in the top drawer of his desk.

 

“I didn’t take you as someone who would enjoy musicals,” Rafael admits. His eyes narrow. “Not that _Wicked_ automatically makes you a Broadway aficionado.”

 

Carisi laughs. “No?”

 

“No. It’s a fine show, but it’s… popular,” Rafael says, realizing he just walked into his own pun. Carisi laughs harder.

 

“So? Popularity doesn’t invalidate the fact it’s a good show,” Carisi says when he’s collected himself a little. “Besides, how obscure do I have to get to win your approval there, huh? _Spring Awakening_? Wait, no, they’re doin’ a revival. _Side Show?_ I mean, that was a revival, too, but it didn’t last too long… _Next to Normal…_ Oh! _Zombie Prom!_ How ‘bout _Taboo?_ ”

 

Rafael has to admit he’s impressed, mostly because he never would’ve expected this list from “call me Sonny” Carisi. “Alright, alright,” he concedes. “But only because you threw in a couple with Alice Ripley.”

 

“Who wouldn’t? She’s fierce.”

 

“She is. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen her onstage.”

 

Carisi’s eyes widen. “Wait. You have?”

 

“You haven’t?”

 

“Um, no. I haven’t made it to many Broadway shows. Got work and school and student loans all kickin’ my…” Carisi pauses, blushing as he realizes the next word out of his mouth was about to be ‘ass’.

 

Rafael understands, actually. As a child, money for hot lunch at school had been considered a luxury. There was no way he ever would’ve been able to afford tickets growing up, and even now that he can, work interferes more often than not. His cursed luck with _Hamilton_ is case in point. Two missed shows, one ticket going to waste in his wallet.

 

It has to be the late hour combined with sleep deprivation. It’s the only reason Rafael can fathom for asking, “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

 

Carisi’s nose scrunches up as he thinks about it. “Y’mean tomorrow night like today? Like Saturday? Or like Sunday night? It’s after midnight.”

 

“Right. Tonight. Saturday.”

 

“I’m done here for the weekend as soon as I finish this up. Didn’t really make any plans, though.”

 

“Good. Don’t.”

 

“Uh, why not?”

 

“Because we’re going to see _Hamilton,_ ” declares Rafael. “I assume you’re familiar with the show?”

 

“Of course! It’s like my most played… Wait. What?”

 

“I have an extra ticket to see _Hamilton_ tonight. You apparently _are_ a Broadway aficionado. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

 

“Seriously? I mean. This isn’t a joke? I’m not gonna show up and get laughed out of the theater?” Carisi is staring at Rafael in disbelief, eyes wide and corners of his mouth twisting downwards. Rafael winces, but he deserves the distrust. Despite his recent attempts to act more cordially toward the detective, he’s never been overly kind to Carisi.

 

“It’s not a joke,” Rafael says. “I promise.”

 

Carisi still looks dubious. Rafael figures that, especially given their past interactions, actions speak louder than words. Rafael pulls out his wallet and one of the tickets. He hands it to Carisi, who takes it delicately and examines it thoroughly, going so far as to hold it up to the light like a cashier checking for a counterfeit bill. His face breaks out in a wide grin.

 

“For real?” Carisi asks, glancing back and forth between the ticket and Rafael’s face like he can’t believe either one is real.

 

“Yes. If you’re interested,” Rafael says. He realizes he’s never actually _asked_ Carisi if he wants to come, just assumed he would say yes. Judging by the wonderstruck look on the detective’s face, he’s not wrong. Still, it’s a courtesy he probably owes Carisi.

 

“Wow. Um, _yeah_! Yeah, thanks, Counselor,” Carisi babbles. “This is so, so awesome. Of course I’m interested!”

 

“Good,” says Rafael. “I’ll see you at the theater tomorrow night. Now finish your work so you can get some sleep.”

 

“You, too!” Carisi winces, realizing that what he’d just said doesn’t necessarily apply to the situation, but Rafael just smirks at him. “I mean. Goodnight, Counselor.”

 

“Goodnight, Detective,” Rafael says before turning to leave. He realizes that this is the first time he’s really smiled since his breakup. Maybe giving Carisi that ticket wasn’t a mistake.

 

* * *

 

 

What the hell had he been thinking giving Carisi that ticket?

 

This is the thought that stirs Rafael to wakefulness the next morning—well, afternoon. At least he doesn’t have too long to dwell on it, though. It’s nearly four. The sleeping in coupled with the questionable decisions from the night before reminds him of his college days in the worst possible way.

 

Fortunately, Rafael doesn’t have much time to dwell on said questionable decisions. What’s done is done and, besides, he has more pressing matters to attend to. Namely what to wear. A full tuxedo seems too formal—too much of a reminder of the date that this evening no longer is. Yet Rafael Barba would rather die than get caught at a Broadway show in anything that even touches on casual.

 

It’s not until he has his phone in hand ready to call Olivia and ask her for fashion advice that Rafael realizes how ridiculous he’s being. He settles on a well-cut black suit over a crisp white shirt and a black tie with gold swirls as a subtle nod to Hamilton’s color scheme.

 

By the time Rafael’s showered and done his hair and double checked that he has his own ticket and convinced himself to eat something for whatever the evening equivalent of breakfast is, it’s time to leave. He makes a mental note to thank Olivia—and possibly all the scum of NYC—for giving him a break and not interrupting his evening for a third time.

 

Waiting alone in the lobby, Rafael begins to worry that _he’s_ the one who’s going to be laughed out of the theater. It’s irrational, because even if Carisi’s not coming for Rafael specifically, he really doesn’t foresee the detective passing up a free Broadway show. Still, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s been stood up.

 

Carisi appears seconds later. His eyes light up when he locates Rafael. The lawyer has never noticed quite how blue they are, blueness further emphasized by the light blue button down the detective is wearing. “Counselor! Nice tie!”

 

“Thank you,” Rafael says. Internally, he preens. Maybe a little externally, too, as he minutely straightens the tie in question.

 

“Oh! I almost forgot. Here,” Carisi says. He brandishes a handful of bills at Rafael.

 

“What’s this for?” Rafael asks. He makes no move to take the cash.

 

“The ticket?” Carisi looks confused. His hand inches closer to Rafael, who continues to ignore it.

 

“Carisi,” Rafael sighs. “You don’t need to pay me. Consider it a gift.”

 

“But—”

 

“Overruled,” Rafael says. Sonny stares at him in disbelief, then he bursts into laughter. Rafael waits for him to quiet before continuing, seriously. “Really, Carisi. I already had the ticket. You’re doing me a favor. Just enjoy the show, alright?”

 

“If you’re sure,” Carisi says. Rafael nods. The detective smiles as he pockets his money.

 

They find their seats with little difficulty. They’re aisle seats about halfway up in the mezzanine because, after the first two times, Rafael had nearly given up on actually making it to the show. None of the seats are cheap, but leaving seats in the mezzanine empty wears less on Rafael’s conscience than the third row seat he’d missed out on the first time. As soon as they’re settled, though, Rafael apologizes for the distance between them and the stage.

 

“Are you kiddin’?” Carisi asks, incredulous. He gestures at the farthest corner of the theater. “If I even made it here myself, that’s where I’d be sitting. This is _awesome_!”

 

Rafael should’ve been counting on Carisi being easy to please. Still, he’s so earnest in his reassurance that Rafael can’t help a small smile in response to his blinding grin. They fall into an easy conversation about work until the lights dim.

 

* * *

 

 

Come intermission, Carisi immediately turns to Rafael with a look of pure, unadulterated joy. He’s practically vibrating in his seat. “That! That was…” Carisi gestures with his hands like the word he’s looking for is somewhere in front of him.

 

Rafael smirks. “Good?”

 

“ _Incredible_ ,” Carisi corrects, hands flying wide. “I mean. _Wow!_ ”

 

Rafael is inclined to agree with him. It was definitely worth the wait. “Wow indeed, Detective.”

 

Sonny’s grin gets impossibly wider. “Did you just agree with something _I_ said, Counselor?”

 

“Don’t get too used to it,” Rafael warns. He’s still smiling, though, so it doesn’t have much bite to it.

 

“This is the best night ever,” Carisi exclaims. He pauses, then, fiddling with his playbill. “But, um… Can you let me out, please? I gotta use the john.”

 

“Of course. You have your ticket?” Rafael stands aside so Carisi can pass. Carisi flashes both the ticket and a smile before he walks out.

 

Carisi’s absence allows Rafael to dwell on the fact that the lanky detective has been unexpectedly good company. For all his excitability, he’s sat silently through the entire first act. Rafael almost forgot he was there, except when, during a few of the more upbeat numbers, he’d tapped along with the music on their shared armrest. He had surprisingly good rhythm. He didn’t miss a beat, and Rafael would’ve missed the tapping entirely if he hadn’t been unconsciously waiting for Carisi to interrupt him.

 

If Rafael’s honest, it’s not Carisi specifically that he was listening for. The few times he’d gone to shows with his ex, he’d spent the whole time trying to pay attention to the onstage action despite the other man leaning over and constantly asking questions about the simplest points of the plot. Or commenting on how hot the lead was. Or asking if Rafael would ever consider a threesome with a chorus girl, which, looking back, may have been a serious question rather than the off-color joke Rafael had originally written it off as.

 

Hindsight is proving itself once again to be twenty-twenty. Rafael’s left wondering how that relationship lasted as long as it did. He’s also wondering where Carisi managed to get to, because there’s no way the line for the bathroom was _that_ long.

 

Getting ditched at a Broadway show during intermission is something Rafael can honestly say he has never experienced. He’s not even sure how to prepare himself such an event. Fortunately, Carisi appears just as the lights give their warning flicker. He slides back into his seat with a bashful grin.

 

“Sorry, long line,” Carisi says. “Miss me?”

 

Rafael shakes his head. He wishes he could honestly say no. He’s very glad when the second act starts.

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you… crying?” Rafael inquires.

 

Carisi turns to Rafael, still clapping, completely unashamed. “Are you not?”

 

Rafael smiles at him. “No. But it was still the best show I’ve seen in a long time.”

 

“Best _ever_ ,” Carisi declares. He wipes the tears from his face with the back of his hand.

 

It’s the second time tonight Carisi has made a comment to that effect. And Rafael’s astonished to find that he’s agreeing. ‘Ever’ might be a hyperbole, but it’s certainly the best night he’s had in… in a long, long time. Huh. And with Carisi of all people.

 

Carisi of all people who is currently staring at Rafael, perplexed because the lights are fully up and most of the audience is making their way to the exits while he stands there considering his life. Rafael shakes his head a little to clear it before moving toward the exit. Carisi is hot on his heels.

 

“‘Dear Theodosia’ is like the sweetest song ever,” Carisi chatters. “Hey, did I ever tell ya Bella’s pregnant again? What d’you think my chances are of getting’ her to name it Theodosia?”

 

Rafael snorts. “You’d have better luck talking her into Philip.”

 

“Actually, I wouldn’t. If it’s a boy, she’s gonna name him Thomas,” Carisi says, making a face. “Lemme tell you, Counselor, gettin’ named after your father’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

 

“Theodosia was named after _her_ mother,” Rafael points out. Carisi frowns.

 

“Oh, yeah. Maybe I should try for Angelica. That’s a good name,” he says. They reach the lobby, and Rafael is realizing just how much he doesn’t want to part ways.

 

“Eliza and Peggy not doing it for you?” Rafael asks. “How about Maria?”

 

“Stop,” Carisi says, laughing. He holds the door open for Rafael when they reach it. “Nah, I’m definitely Team Theodosia.”

 

“Of course you are,” Rafael says, rolling his eyes. “I wish you luck with that.”

 

“Thanks, Counselor,” Carisi says, giving Rafael a return eye roll. Then he pauses and adds, with much more sincerity, “I mean it. Thanks, really. For inviting me. This was awesome.”

 

“My pleasure,” says Rafael. He means it, too.

 

“And this is for you. To say thank you,” Carisi says, shyly holding out a plastic bag that Rafael had failed to notice until that moment. It’s a good thing he’s a lawyer not a detective. He does have a sinking feeling that he now knows where Carisi disappeared to during intermission.

 

“Carisi, I already told you. You don’t have to repay me.”

 

“You know, my Ma always told me that if someone offers you a gift, you accept it. Graciously.”

 

“Funny. _Mami_ would say that if someone’s offering you a gift, they probably have an ulterior motive.”

 

“So what was yours for giving me that ticket, then, huh?” Carisi asks defiantly. Touché. Rafael decides that graciously accepting the gift might be the way to go. He reaches out and takes the bag from him.

  
“Thank you, Carisi,” Rafael says. He reaches in and pulls out a t-shirt. “Even if you really didn’t have to.”

 

Carisi shrugs. “It was soft.” Well, he has a point. “I kinda guessed what size you wear. There’s a lapel pin, in there, too. Just in case I got it wrong.”

 

Rafael stands there, in the midst of the crowd of theatregoers hurried home, running his fingers over the soft material of the t-shirt, dumbstruck by the casual kindness and forethought Carisi displayed in his gift-giving. He’s sure it was nothing to Carisi, or at least nothing more than a loophole in Rafael’s no-payback policy. But to Rafael… it’s everything. The show itself wasn’t enough to bring him to tears—as Carisi had teasingly pointed out—but this genuine display of kindness, especially from someone he’d never treated particularly well, it just might be.

 

Carisi is looking at him, still smiling, but there’s an edge of concern to it. Probably because Rafael’s doing that thing again where he’s reevaluating his life whilst standing in the midst of a moving multitude again.

 

Rafael’s reevaluation leads him to a conclusion he’s pretty sure he’d already come to: he really doesn’t want this night to end. So he decides not to let it.

 

“Are you hungry?” Rafael asks as they start walking again.

 

“Um, pretty much always,” admits Carisi. “High metabolism.”

 

“I meant, would you like to get dinner?” Rafael inquires, patiently.

 

“Wait. For real?”

 

“Only if you quit asking me if I’m being serious.”

 

“Okay, okay. Sorry! Um, yeah. Dinner sounds good.”

 

“I might have reservations at Jean-Georges.”

 

“That really, really expensive French place?”

 

“Uh-huh. But if you’d prefer someth—”

 

Rafael literally runs into Carisi, who’s stopped short in the middle of the sidewalk. “Counselor. Wait. Was this supposed to be a date?”

 

“Not with _you_ ,” Rafael says quickly. Then he realizes how that sounded. “I mean. It was originally planned as a date. Just… with someone else.” Rafael feels embarrassingly close to tears again, and this time not for good reasons.

 

“Hey, whoa, I’m sorry,” Carisi says, softly, soothingly. He gently takes Rafael by the arm and leads him to the edge of the sidewalk where they’re no longer impeding traffic quite so much. “C’mon. Let’s have that dinner. Food’ll make you feel better. Maybe not at your fancy French place, though. Sound alright?”

 

Rafael nods, slowly. He realizes he has his new t-shirt in a death grip.

 

They end up at a hole-in-the-wall Greek place. It wouldn’t have been Rafael’s first pick, but it’s quiet and it has coffee, so he can’t complain. Carisi sits him at a corner table while he takes care of the ordering. He comes back with a tray loaded with far more food than Rafael thinks they’ll be able to eat between the two of them.

 

Carisi’s first act upon reaching the table is to set a cup of coffee in front of Rafael. So considerate. Rafael kind of wishes he would stop being so _nice_ because tears are threatening again.

 

“I’m not sayin’ you _have_ to talk about it,” Carisi says, grabbing a couple fries and swirling them through a puddle of ketchup. “But for what it’s worth? Woulda been an awesome date. She doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

 

Rafael takes an aggressive sip of his coffee. It’s too hot. “I… I think he does know, actually,” he says, staring into his coffee cup like it’s the cause of all his problems.

 

“Then he’s just an idiot,” Carisi declares, eating his fries like Rafael hasn’t just revealed more about his sexuality than he’d ever planned to.

 

Rafael lets out a choked sound that would be a laugh under any other circumstances. “You’re good at this.”

 

“Are you kiddin’? I mean,” Sonny says, picking up another couple fries. “I _am_ pretty great.”

 

“And so modest,” Rafael says, one corner of his mouth quirking up against his will.

 

“I _meant_ ‘at this’. Because I have three sisters. Lotsa practice. Trust me, you’re makin’ this easy.

 

“I mean Bella—you remember her, right? She and Tommy used to break up like every other day. Talk about on-again, off-again. I think their record was three breakups in one day. Maybe four. So, anyway, when they finally got themselves together, I mean, I was real glad. But there was this whole week she didn’t call crying about him, and I actually had to call home to make sure she was still alive.

 

“And then this one time, Gina and Theresa—they’re the older ones—they went on this double date. ‘Cept Gina got stood up. And then Theresa’s boyfriend started makin’ eyes at Gina. I mean, I didn’t get the whole story ‘til like two weeks later, just lotsa screaming and cursing every time they saw each other. I thought they were gonna kill each other. Or drown in their tears, one-a-the two. _So_ many tears.”

 

Carisi really is good at this. Rafael’s actually smiling—if a little shakily—by the time he’s done telling his story. He was right about the food helping, too—well, at least the coffee is helping, now that he’s let it cool down a little.

 

“He was an idiot,” Rafael says, slowly. “Not for ending it. Just, in general. He isn’t… wasn’t a good person.”

 

“That’s good,” Sonny says. Rafael looks up at him, confounded. “It’s good that you know that, you know? That you can see that. It’s easier to get over a dodged bullet than something you think coulda worked.”

 

“Speaking from experience?”

 

“Sure. I mean,” Sonny pauses, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve had plenty of both. The ones I regret having in the first place and the ones I regret letting go. I dunno. And maybe it’s silly, but I like to think there’s something better for me. And if there is… If there is, I’m willing to wait for it.” His face is an odd mixture of pride for managing to reference _Hamilton_ and drop-dead serious _._

 

Rafael nods thoughtfully. He holds up his Styrofoam cup. “Cheers.”

 

“To what?”

 

“To better things,” Rafael decides after a minute.

 

“Alright then. Cheers,” Carisi agrees. He’s grinning wide, eyes crinkling at the corners as he taps their cups together.

 

* * *

 

 

They leave together a little over an hour later, better fed and in better spirits. Carisi’s in the middle of another one of his sisters’ break-up stories—he really wasn’t exaggerating about the amount of experience he has consoling victims of failed relationships.

 

As soon as they get out the door, though, Rafael turns back toward the theater and Carisi turns away from it. They turn back around to stare at each other, confused.

 

“Hey. Where are you going?” Carisi asks.

 

“To my car. Where are _you_ going?” Rafael shoots back. He feels his question is more reasonable because the restaurant is several blocks away from the theater, and if Carisi is headed the other way, he would’ve had a long walk to get there. At least that would explain why Rafael was waiting in the lobby for so long.

 

“To mine.” Carisi frowns. “It’s late. You want me to walk you to your car?”

 

“I appreciate your offer, but it’s really not necessary.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Positive. You’ve done more than enough for me tonight, Carisi. Goodnight.”

 

“Goodnight, yourself, Counselor. Stay safe, yeah?”

 

“I’ll try. Thank you.”

 

“Nah, thank _you_.”

 

Rafael is really considering saying ‘thank you’ again, sarcastically, because harassing Carisi is an old habit that has yet to die hard. Except, before he can, Carisi bends down lightning quick and places a barely-there kiss on his cheek. And before he can process _that_ , Carisi is gone.

 

At least Carisi isn’t there to witness Rafael being far too cliché for his own liking as he raises a hand to touch the tingling spot on his cheek.

 

To better things, indeed.

 

* * *

 

 

Carisi’s gaze immediately gravitates to the lapel pin Rafael’s wearing the following Monday. He stares, blatantly, mouth the tiniest bit agape. Rafael has to hide his smirk in his cup of coffee because Olivia and Rollins are present.

 

They’ve all gathered in Rafael’s office to update him on the most recent case. They’re not too deep into their investigation, so Rafael’s not sure why they’re _all_ there—Olivia’s more than capable of handling briefings on her own, so bringing along two other detectives seems particularly excessive. Still, Rafael’s not going to complain about Carisi’s unexpected, if unnecessary, presence.

 

The briefing is brief, though Rafael has a sinking feeling that this won’t be the case throughout the investigation. The victim’s story has already changed enough times that he knows he’ll need rock solid evidence if he wants a conviction.

 

Olivia wraps up the briefing and gathers her detectives. It turns out that there are so many detectives in his office not because they were necessary to laying out the details of the case, but rather because they’d been on their way to lunch at the sub shop just down from Rafael’s office.

 

“Carisi, a word?” Rafael calls as they leave, little ducklings in a row after Olivia.

 

“Sure, Counselor,” Carisi says with a dutiful nod. Apparently, he knows Rafael more than likely wants word _s_ , plural. “Hey, Amanda, I might be here a while. You know what I like?”

 

“Course I do,” Rollins says, smoothly, accent heavy.

 

“Don’t keep him too long, Barba,” Olivia warns.

 

“Right,” Rafael drawls. His fingers twitch in his pocket, desperately wanting to make a shooing motion. Still, he refrains for pride’s sake.

 

Rafael wanted nothing more than for the female detectives to leave, but when they’re gone, he realizes he’s not entirely sure what he wants to say. He knows what he wants to _do_ —take hold of Carisi’s teal and blue tie, draw him in and ravish him—but he also knows that’s a bad idea. Besides, there’s a desk between him and Carisi.

 

Carisi who’s still standing in the middle of his office, looking lost. Rafael may not be entirely sure where he was going with this conversation, but the apprehension on the detective’s face is unacceptable.

 

“Relax,” Rafael says. He frowns when Carisi doesn’t relax, doesn’t look up from the spot on the floor he’s staring at. “Just in case you were wondering, I made it to my car alright.”

 

Carisi’s head whips up. He still looks uncertain, but one corner of his mouth is turned up. “Good to hear.”

 

“Come. Sit,” Rafael offers. He indicates the empty chairs across from his desk with a lazy wave of his hand. Carisi does, looking for all the world like he’s walking to his demise. “You know I’m not mad, right?”

 

Apparently, Carisi _hadn’t_ known. He glances up at Rafael. Actually seeing the lack of anger, the tension leaves his body and his shoulders drop. He’s still tapping his foot rapidly on the floor, but then he always seems to be in motion, so Rafael figures this is the best he’s going to get.

 

“You never called or anythin’, after…” Carisi begins. He smiles ruefully and shrugs one shoulder. “I thought I crossed a line.”

 

“No. That wasn’t because… I wasn’t shutting you out,” Rafael explains. “It was a late night. I _may_ have slept through most of yesterday.”

 

“Up past your bedtime? That your excuse, Counselor?”

 

“Weekends are for sleeping in. By the way, the shirt fits. And it’s _very_ soft.”

 

Carisi looks more like himself as he laughs. “I can’t believe I just bought you glorified pajamas.”

 

“You bought me my new _favorite_ pajamas,” Rafael corrects. He’s smiling right along with Sonny. At least, he is for the few seconds before Sonny’s face drops again.

 

“You really held me back just so you could tell me the shirt fits?”

 

“I spent a lot of yesterday thinking, too. Saturday was the most fun I’ve had in… a while. And the best date, even if I really didn’t intend for it to be. I just don’t want you to think that you’re a rebound.”

 

“Oh,” Carisi says. He gets up.

 

“Where are you going?” Rafael asks, standing up, too. He may not have started this conversation with a plan, but this is _not_ how he intended for it to go.

 

“Lunch,” Carisi says flatly, refusing to look at Rafael.

 

“I almost did call, just so you know,” Rafael offers. Carisi looks up at him, then. He looks on the edge of breaking. “But I didn’t think…”

 

Carisi starts striding towards the door, shoulders slumped. Rafael has to run a few steps to catch up.

 

“Didn’t think,” Rafael repeats, louder, “that a phone call would be enough. I wanted to see you. And I can’t do this over the phone.”

 

“This?” asks Carisi, incredulously. He turns around, eyes wide and hurt. “What do you mean _this_? Literally nothing that’s happened here couldn’ta been done ov—”

 

Carisi freezes as Rafael leans up to brush a kiss to his cheek. It’s just as short and sweet as the one Carisi had left him as a parting gift outside the restaurant. He has to stand on his tippy-toes to do it.

 

“—er the phone,” Carisi finishes in a whisper.

 

“Okay?” Rafael asks. He’s backed up a step, giving Carisi room. He feels the sweat on his palms. Every second the detective stands there, still and quiet, spidery cracks spread through Rafael’s heart and confidence.

 

Finally, Carisi licks his lips, slowly. “Oh.”

 

Rafael’s not sure if he wants to laugh or scream because Carisi’s response has given him absolutely no insight into what the other man is thinking. He’s beginning to see why Carisi would kiss him at the end of the night instead of in the middle of a conversation. He has nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nothing left to say. All he can do is wait for Carisi to give him a clue as his insecurities slowly worm their ugly way back into his mind.

 

“Would I?” Carisi asks suddenly, head tilted slightly. “Be a rebound?”

 

“I… don’t know,” Rafael admits. “I don’t date often. This is new territory for me.”

 

Carisi considers this, biting the inside of his cheek and nodding slowly, eyes distant as he thinks. “Are you using me?”

 

“No.” It’s out of Rafael’s mouth before he can think about it. He doesn’t _need_ to think about it.

 

“Okay,” Carisi says.

 

“Okay? That’s it?” Rafael raises an eyebrow. It can’t be that easy.

 

Carisi shrugs and gives him a small smile. Apparently, it is.

 

“Yeah. I mean. I don’t really buy into the whole rebound thing.” Carisi grabs a nearby chair, swinging it around to sit backwards on it. He rests his chin on the arms he crosses over the back. His blue eyes look up seriously up at Rafael through his long eyelashes. “You can’t just turn feelin’s on and off when it’s convenient, y’know? Otherwise, rebounds or whatever wouldn’t even be a thing. And everything would be easier, really. But that’s not the point.

 

“I mean, if you want to wait a month or two or five or whatever, fine. That’s your call, and I’ll respect it. But at the end of that time, you’re either gonna feel the same way about me or you’re not. And you gotta realize that the same thing’s gonna be true if you’re with me for that month… those months… whatever. So unless you’ve got any objections, I’d rather spend that time trying because waiting and my job don’t always work out so hot.”

 

Rafael is stunned. Carisi has always been vivacious, positive to an oftentimes annoying degree. He’s the last member of SVU that Rafael would ever expect to acknowledge their own mortality.

 

It makes Rafael sick to his stomach.

 

“Okay,” Rafael says, slowly. He tastes the word, tests it on his tongue. It feels right.

 

“Okay? That’s it?” Carisi mocks. He’s grinning wide, though. He looks giddy, a laugh hiding just behind his teeth. Rafael’s nausea subsides at the sheer _rightness_ of Carisi smiling.

 

Before Rafael can second-guess himself, he leans down and presses a kiss to the corner of Carisi’s smile. Carisi lets out a little “oh” before he turns his head the tiniest fraction so that their lips meet full on. The kiss is soft and sweet and so definitely worth waiting for.

 

Pulling back, Rafael takes a second to appreciate Carisi’s post-kiss face—his reddened cheeks, his hooded eyes, his tongue poking out almost shyly to run across his lips.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Carisi says, half to himself. He smiles, softly, and stands back up. He rights the chair and checks his watch. He bites his lip before chancing a glance at Rafael. “I’ve got about half an hour left before Sarge needs me back. How ‘bout some lunch, maybe?”

 

This is Carisi, who doesn’t care if Rafael’s rich or not, who had been more than kind to Rafael from the very beginning when all Rafael had done was try and cut him down. This is Carisi, who thinks Rafael is “his kind of lawyer” because he fights for the victims, for justice. This is Carisi, who is perpetually thoughtful, mindful of small details, and willing to go the extra step for the sake of those around him. This is Carisi, who had inadvertently been the best date of Rafael’s life. This is Carisi, who Rafael is constantly underestimating; a shortcoming Rafael silently swears he will remedy in the future.

 

“Will there be coffee?” Rafael asks.

 

Carisi’s still smiling, blue eyes bright. “Is this you saying yes? To a date? With me?”

 

“This is me not throwing away my shot.”

 

“Y’know, that didn’t end too well for Hamilton…”

 

“Yes, Carisi. I will go to lunch with you. As a date. Provided there’s coffee.”

 

Carisi smiles beatifically, like this is the best thing he’s heard all day. He looks so perfect that Rafael nearly gives in and kisses him again when he snaps his fingers and returns to his normal goofy self. Rafael still wants to kiss him. “I know just the place!”

 

Rafael listens to Carisi as he babbles on about some new restaurant just a few blocks away, hands waving and grinning about a mile wide. Rafael is smiling, too, helpless.


End file.
